


'Till the end

by Tita



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Fights, Flashbacks, M/M, blowjob, idk what to tag tbh, one terrible pun, roadtrip au, though not really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-05
Updated: 2014-02-05
Packaged: 2018-01-11 05:48:18
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,813
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1169424
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tita/pseuds/Tita
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Let’s go on a road trip.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	'Till the end

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks again to Cara and Tara who made this jumble of three am ramblings into something decent, you guys really save the day every time.  
> I don't own one direction and all of this is fiction.

It happens at random.

Harry wakes up one day with an inexplicable feeling of longing running through his veins, of the need to do _something_ different, something outside these four walls they’ve crammed themselves into for the past few days.

He wakes up Louis with a trail of soft kisses down his spine and goes back up again to whisper a proposal in his ear.

“Let’s go on a road trip.”

Louis nods sleepily and then they’re doing it, taking showers and putting on comfy sweaters, grabbing keys and leaving their dingy apartment in favour of endless pavement and songs on the radio.

The city is not awake when Harry twists the key in the ignition. Hazy reds and leftover traces of blue make up the sky as they pull out of their street and head  onwards to places they don’t know. Some curious souls walk the bare streets and Harry spots Louis waving lazily at them, saying goodbye to people they’ve never even said “hi” to.

Reaching out for the stereo, Harry connects his iPod and lets whatever music he was listening to before fill the car. It’s someone crooning about lost love, voice raspy and low and fitting, because they start out slow on this trip of theirs.

They have not always been this way, trepid about how they begin things.

*

_Harry has been at the club for all of ten minutes before he’s lost his group of friends. He watched them disappear into the crowd and said nothing, mind somehow suppressing the anxiety of being alone in favour of flooding it with ideas of exotic cocktail drinks._

_He pushes his way through the dense crowd on the way to the bar, lights sporadically marking his way. The place is brimming with people, several apparently not noticing as they practically fuck metres away from Harry._

_The bartender is thankfully quick in slipping Harry some tequila, which he downs promptly, feeling the burn and hoping it will help put him in the mood to do anything but stay near the bar all night._

_The first one does not. The second one only partly, but it’s when he sees the bottom of the third shot glass that he feels his mood lighten, switch from okay to “maybe I can party”._

_He turns around after that, eyes scanning the dancefloor, looking for a person who will make him want to dance. The skimpily dressed bodies are unappealing, and even though Harry wants to ride this liquid thrill, they’re simply not doing anything for him._

_“Looking for something?” A voice comes from his right, and Harry slowly turns around (slower than he would have liked-- alcohol does that to him) to face the person speaking._

_His eyes land on what can only be described as ‘wow’ by his drunk brain. It takes him maybe two seconds to decide this boy is what he needs tonight._

_“You,” he answers, smiling at the pretty boy._

_The boy’s laugh is almost magical._

_“Well, aren’t you a cheeky little thing,” Cute Boy says, hand now resting on Harry’s shoulder._

_“Not little,” Harry’s muddled brain supplies, before he can think better of it._

_Cute Boy laughs again._

_“Wanna dance?” Harry asks, the new song making his feet tap; his new companion giving him an excuse._

_“Sure.”_

_So they dance, a safe distance between their bodies that slowly disappears, shirts rucked up and sticking to their skin. The beat thrums underneath them and then inside them, Harry’s heart pumping to the beat of the music as his hand circles the boy’s hips and he bends his head down for his voice to be heard._

_“I’m Harry,” he not-whispers into the boys’ ear, feet almost tangling as his hips brush his companion’s._

_“Louis,” the boy offers before grinding back down on Harry, turning around to smirk at him when Harry groans._

_From there it doesn’t take much for it to escalate to full on frottage, moans and groans engulfed by the bass as Harry slowly becomes undone to the point where he has to drag Louis off to the bathroom and into a stall._

_“Fuck, Harry,” Louis moans brokenly as Harry closes his mouth around the head of his cock, sucking softly before taking more in._

_Small hands twine themselves in Harry’s hair as he bobs up and down, knees hurting slightly from his position on the hard floor. Louis rocks into his mouth and makes Harry splutter before he comes, hot down Harry’s throat._

_Harry’s own erection is throbbing by then, and it takes all of two tugs and Louis muttering “such a slut” into his mouth for Harry to come messily onto the tile._

_There are no awkward partings that night, for Harry goes home with a lapful of somehow-still-horny sunshine boy._

*

The engine rumbles quietly as miles of cement disappear beneath the wheels, Louis’ snores pacing the hour. He’s fallen asleep, barely two hours after they’d set off, but Harry doesn’t mind, likes the way the music has morphed into some of his favourite chill songs to accompany him along the route.

Harry still doesn’t know where he’s going, has his foot laying heavy on the gas, confident that at eight in the morning he’s invincible. Or maybe invisible, since stray cars drift by and then disappear, with the only constant thing being him, Louis, and their car. Not even the girl singing about the flowers is permanent, not like Harry and Louis, not like _this,_ a moment that feels like a forever.

Wind blows through the car from where Harry has his window down, and it ruffles his hair as a greeting before it exits through the gap Louis has open on his side.  It must make more noise and ruckus than Harry thinks since Louis is yawning by the time they pass the sign that seemed so distant ten minutes ago.

“I’m hungry,” Louis says.

“Me too,” Harry agrees and just like that, they have a new destination.

*

_Harry hates finals._

_His books are strewn all over the diner table and his hair must be a mess due to all the fussing he’s done with his hands. He can’t help it; he needs something to take  his frustration out on whenever he finds a piece of text he just can’t get down, and his curly locks are just there in reach._

_A clock is ticking incessantly over by the opposite wall and Harry is scared to look at if for fear of what hour he might find displayed. He’s been at it too long but then again not long enough, hasn’t bent over for a sufficient enough amount of time to feel content, and he’s doomed to several more hours here, alone in a stupid, isolated diner that no student wants to be in after the clock shows three a.m._

_Harry’s phone buzzes from its place on the table under three pages that have fallen out of his book- as if he needed anything else to stress him out._

**_are you still there u loon_ **

_It’s Louis, and the way he tries to tease Harry to distract from the concern of his message makes Harry smile._

**_yeah :(_ **

_When he hears the whooshing sound of his reply sending he lays his phone down and immerses himself in his books again, sighing as he turns yet another page of his textbook. You would think they could add some pictures to spice it up, really._

_Several minutes pass as Harry’s tired eyes scan over the text, the diner’s scarce sounds the playlist for his studies. People must leave because he hears a bustle, a thanks and then the door. He doesn’t lift his head to see. It was either a disgruntled middle aged man or another tired uni kid, maybe an insomniac adult with a pancake craving; all of them irrelevant as he continues to focus._

_Another bell signaling the door, another page turn, another Louis sliding into the booth. Wait, what?_

_“Hey, babe,” Louis greets him. Harry thinks his face is most likely a picture of his confusion._

_“Hi,” he says back, furrowing his brow as Louis leans in for a quick peck. “What are you doing here?”_

_Louis kisses him again, and his eyes twinkle with a secret plan._

_“Just came by to distract you a little,” he begins explaining and before Harry can protest, continues. “It’s late, Harry, and you’ve been working hard all week. You deserve a break.”_

_Harry sighs and rubs at his eyes with his hand._

_“Are you hungry?” he finally asks._

_Louis smiles triumphantly. “I won’t say no to some pizza.”_

_Harry laughs and takes the hand Louis has laid over the table in his._

_“It is arse am Lou, I don’t think they make pizza at this hour.”_

_“They will for me. After all, I am quite persuasive when I wanna be.”_

_Harry smiles and nods, shoulders sagging a bit less than before._

_It turns out they do make pizza, Louis looking pointedly at Harry and smirking before digging in, Harry watching fondly as Louis crams almost half a slice into his tiny mouth. There’s sauce all over his face, and Harry’s brain comes up with the best thing ever as Louis grabs another slice._

_“Lou, you’re very_ saucy _today,” he giggles._

_Louis chokes on his pizza, and Harry is concerned for a second before Louis takes a sip of water and glares at him. Oops._

_“Harold, no.”_

_Harry giggles some more._

_He finally takes a slice of his own and they gradually work through the whole pizza, a pleasant chatter forming in between greedy bites. When they’re done, a grumpy waitress takes it away and Harry glances at his books, pushed to the side in order to make space._

_“I really have to get back to this,” he says apologetically, hand reaching out for his damn book again. “Sorry,” he offers Louis as he looks up and finds him frowning._

_“No, no, it’s okay babe, I get it. Someone has to be the responsible one.” Louis winks as he slides out of his seat, going around to pull Harry into a kiss._

_“Don’t overstay your welcome here,” he warns cheekily and Harry chuckles before reaching around to pat his bum playfully._

_“I won’t.”_

_“See you at home,” Louis says and then, with the empty ding of the bell, he is gone._

_When Harry gets home three hours later, he crawls into bed and cuddles Louis close, and he likes to think the way Louis’ breathing immediately evens out in his sleep isn’t in his imagination._

_(It’s not, and when Harry asks Louis why he was up late enough to join Harry at the diner, Louis sheepishly admits he had trouble sleeping alone. Harry grabs him by the coat and kisses him silly.)_

*

Somewhere in the fourth hour of driving, Louis spots a sign that signals a beach and Harry puts his blinker on.

The weather is actually too chilly to be outside, the wind cutting into their faces, but Harry and Louis get out of the car anyway, grab their breakfast leftovers, just in case, and set off down the beach.

In the distance, there’s a lonely kite anchored by a tiny silhouette of an even tinier kid, and they walk, now barefoot towards it, the ocean trying to reach their feet and failing each time. It gets close sometimes, and Harry laughs as Louis tries to discreetly steer them away, fearing the waves that are so beautiful Harry stops four times to take pictures.

“None of me,” Louis warns him as he takes small steps to get away from yet another foam leftover of the last crashed wave.

Harry aims the camera towards him and snaps three in a row.

They end up tumbling around in the wet sand. Neither of them minds.

*

_It’s their third year in university and Harry and Louis are fighting. Harry doesn’t even know how it began, how it went from Louis whispering sweet things into his ear to Louis screaming and stomping out. He hadn’t chased him, knew he had to give Louis some space but it’s been three days without contact, and isn’t it enough distance already?_

_He doesn’t mope around because he has classes, but in between them he can’t help but feel lonely, finds himself talking to thin air before he remembers. Louis is not here._

_“You’re both being so stupid,” Zayn tells him._

_Harry doesn’t know._

_Louis hasn’t even tried to fix things himself, and that makes Harry apprehensive about being the first one, makes him wonder if maybe Louis doesn’t miss him like Harry does, if he can go on as if nothing has happened. It makes his insides crumble a little._

_On the fourth day, he sees Louis talking to a pretty boy, his hand on his shoulder. He thinks about going over but judging by Louis’ stance, he doesn't think he’d be greeted kindly._

_Harry pretends it doesn’t sting like hell, and that night he absolutely does not cry into his pillow._

_It doesn’t get better when the week is over, and on Friday night he’s ready to dig into the banana ice cream he has been saving for the right occasion when there’s a knock on the door. Reluctantly, he stands up and walks over, making sure his trousers are on before he opens the door._

_It’s Zayn, and behind him, Louis. Harry doesn’t know if he’s supposed to be happy or nervous, so he’s both._

_He’s so surprised he stands there by the door idly until Zayn shakes his head and pushes through, announcing he’ll be “out on the balcony and can be thanked later”. Louis scoffs, bringing Harry’s attention back to him and he looks so small, insecure and shrunken into himself that Harry wants to go over and hug him._

_“Hey,” he greets._

_“Hi.”_

_It’s all so painfully awkward, so unlike themselves that Harry can’t help but chuckle nervously. It seems to lighten Louis up._

_“Zayn practically dragged me here, so, sorry for that,” he explains._

_Harry’s face falls just a little._

_“Does that mean you don’t want to see me?” he asks, insecure. He’s always one for being open with his emotions, and right now, he can tell Louis is reading him easily._

_“Oh fuck no, Harry, I’ve missed you a lot,” Louis breathes out, his eyes widening when he realizes what he’s said. “I mean I-” he tries to get out but Harry interrupts, beginning to feel hopeful._

_“I’ve missed you too, Lou,” Harry smiles. “And I want to solve this, I hate being like this.”_

_Louis nods, smiling a little. “Yeah, I quite miss my homemade meals.”_

_Harry shoves him lightly. The awkwardness isn’t as palpable. “Twat.”_

_“You love me,” Louis answers, and Harry knows it’s his automatic response, but the fact that he still says it despite how things are, makes him beam._

_“I do.”_

_Louis’s eyes meet Harry’s and then they’re kissing, soft lips molding against each other. Hands grab on to whatever they can, neither of them wanting to let go, both craving the contact they’ve missed out on._

_“We still need to talk about stuff,” Harry warns. He wants Louis in his life forever, so they need to be on the same page, happy and agreeing. Right now, though, he can relent and kiss Louis instead._

_“Yeah,” Louis agrees, much to Harry’s pleasure, before going on his tiptoes and whispering in Harry’s ear. “But I haven’t fucked you in a week, and I’m pretty sure Zayn can hold on for a bit.”_

_They don’t do much talking until later, when Harry asks Louis the real reason of their fight and watches Louis lay himself bare for Harry, talking his issues out until there is nothing to talk about._

_They’ll be okay._

*

By the time the sun sets, they’ve managed to find another beach farther along the route. It’s a more secluded one, and as Harry parks his car and takes out a blanket for them to sit on, Louis smiles and leans on the car.

It’s the perfect picture, and Harry can’t resist leaning closer and lifting Louis’ chin, stealing a kiss as he walks off to lay the fabric out.

They sit down, legs brushing together and private smiles tugging at their lips. The sky is now reds, golds and pinks, and as the sea roars distantly, Harry’s mind quiets down, no longer itching to go away but begging to stay, like this, indefinitely.

He turns around to tell Louis that the roadtrip worked, but when he finds him staring at the sky, skin bathed in the pale glow, his words die down.

Louis is beautiful, is someone he’s had to work for, but in the end, it’s worth it. Harry doesn’t need to see the end of the sunset because Louis is better than anything else the road of life has given him.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me in tumblr at [ Latitta](http://latitta.tumblr.com/)


End file.
